Thoughts in a Garden
by readingpower
Summary: All by herself, away from the chaos that is nations, Belarus allows herself to think. Canbela.


Belarus sighed as she walked over the small garden's miniature bridge. It was a nice enough place, with its bushes and flowers and trees, but she knew better. Eventually it would turn into dust and ruin. How she didn't know, but it would. Just like everything. Life was truly short, some more than others. It was times like these she found herself wondering about death. A nation's death that is. Their true death, referred to as the fading to avoid confusion. She thought about fading a lot. About her's, her family's, her enemy's, hell she even thought of Lithuania's at times.

It did no good. No matter how much she wondered, and wondered, and wondered, she would not know. Not until it happened at least. Which may be tomorrow, or it may be years away. She knew she wasn't immortal, despite her bosses' words, and despite her indifferent covering, she was far from eager for her fading.

Idly wondering about how she would fade toke second place in her mind as the girl looked around at the garden surrounding her.

The garden was very beautiful, and the stone walkway started out strait, but went off in two, turning until you couldn't count all the possible ways to go. Not that she had bothered. No, she simply went to the most remote place in the area. From the gateway in you wouldn't be able to see her, but she would see you. Always best to be safe, after all.

To the side of the platinum blond was a series of what seemed to be red and white tulips, but she was no expert. Didn't exactly have a chance to, with her house. Parallel to the tulips were another set of the flower, but in orange and pink. In between them was one of the many walkways, but this one was cut in half by a man-made stream. A small wooden bridge jut over the water, in an almost comical version of a true bridge, and it was doomed to forever try to be something it wasn't. Almost like her, in a way.

The most recent world meeting was at Norway's house; his capitol specifically. It had, as expected, gone horribly wrong, and Germany was forced to call a break just to get various nations from strangling the other. Dying may be normal for them, but it was hell coming back. You were sore for days, and there was, of course, the fact that it was usually coupled with war and your people dying in horrendous amounts. But really, besides that, it was a walk in the park.

Belarus had been neutral at the call for break (and silently disappointed certain people weren't being choked anymore) and had walked to the garden immediately. Being surrounded by nature, the green kind, was a luxury, and while she would not admit the weakness aloud, she enjoyed it. The quiet sound of water running across smooth pebbles in the stream in front of her was relaxing, no matter how reluctant she was to show it.

Nevertheless, Belarus leaned backwards onto the tree behind her, always keeping one eye on the gate. Only she was allowed to see herself like this. Not even her brother. Especially her brother. No one could see her weakness.

But as her eyes strayed towards the road behind her, she noticed a little girl and boy. Both laughing; innocent to the world. They were chasing each other, and only stopped when a plump women came up to them and started berating them for going ahead. Firmly grasping their small hands, she started walking away from garden. In that moment, and only that moment, she couldn't help but wish her family was like that. The idiotic idea was pushed away in seconds, but it lingered in a way only thoughts could.

Taking out one of her many hidden knives in an attempt to distract herself, she soon was twirling the weapon expertly. At first she did simple twirling tricks, but soon that wasn't enough, and she started making them bigger and bigger, her so carefully hidden fury growing with each stroke. She toke another knife out and slashed through the air furiously, twisting and turning as she started dueling an imaginary opponent. She stabbed, parried, and sliced, never letting her body open to any attacks. She ducked to avoid being hit, rolling away and using her momentum to jump up and backwards, hitting the imaginary enemy in the back. He quickly turned around and swiped at her, but his imaginary movements were clumsy, and she managed to fly backwards quickly enough to not get hit.

He swiped again, but this time he wasn't as clumsy, and her backtracking had not been as graceful as she had hoped.

Belarus turned before he could land another hit, growling in fury as she knocked his feet out from under him.

Her eyes burning with ferocity and triumph she looked down at her fallen enemy, almost smirking as she opened her mouth to berate him.

And she snapped it shut as she realized no one was there. Of course there wasn't: she had made him up. She had made everything up. There wasn't a fight, she hadn't won, and she never had.

She had just made a fool of herself. And she _hated _being a fool.

Growling as loud as humanly possible she raised her knife and—

A hand clasped around her wrist.

There was silence.

". . . You are not my brother," she said calmly, a cool mask of indifference in place. And he wasn't.

Her brother was almost never seen without the same pair of black leather gloves, but when he was his hands were large and rough, calloused with years of hardship and pain. They were full of burn marks and scars from his more ruthless leaders, though no one would dare do it to him now. The hand on her wrist had no gloves, and no scars. It had some rough patches, but compared to her brother's skin seemed baby soft. And there was patches of hair on their knuckles, a trait her brother lacked.

A slight breeze came from before her, and hearing the slight shuffling of a suit, Belarus deducted that he must have nodded.

'He' because though his hand was small, it was still larger than any of the female nations, who she knew well enough, considering they got together once a month to have a meeting.

It wasn't France, England, or America either, since they all stuck together like flies, despite everything. And Germany would have Italy Veneciano stuck to his side, so that counted them out as well. China was talking to Japan about some animal or another, and with his tendency to ramble on about them, that meant neither of them were here either.

Belarus slowly lowered the arm the person had grabbed, tucking her knife back into its hidden compartment beneath her dress, her eyes never leaving the large oak tree that would've had a knife sized hole in it if he hadn't interfered. He still didn't let go.

"I'm not going to thank you, if that's what you waiting for," Belarus said in her most nonchalant voice. There still wasn't an answer.

Her eyes didn't leave the tree, but her attention moved to the metal gate she had been watching, even as she fought the imaginary opponent. She hadn't seen anyone come in, and if there was one thing she prided herself on, it was her eyesight. Which meant whoever it was had been here before her. But that was impossible, as she had come here as soon as she could, like always, and since she had never seen someone else here, this must have been his first time through the confusing stone path in the garden, which she would have heard. People were always so much louder when they were confused, after all.

For half a second she wondered if it was a human, but a human's strength would never be able to stop a nation, especially an angry one, so she threw that thought away.

So, either this man had the power to become invisible, or he had skipped the meeting to come here.

But, as she thought further, why would he come here for the meeting and not go? She hadn't heard of any fights, so it wasn't wounded pride that kept him from going, and most of the nation's bosses had them under some sort of threat if they didn't go, so it wasn't recklessness either. At least, not complete recklessness. Which ruled out Italy Romano and East Germany, who she refused to call something he was no longer.

The only logical explanation was that the nation had gone to part of the meeting, and somehow left in the middle. Which, even thru all the chaos, still required being invisible.

As a ghost wafted past her vision, she decided it wasn't the oddest thing she had come to terms with.

"Is there a reason you left the meeting that we were all supposed to attend?" Belarus asked, not bothering to seem kind.

"You noticed?" the person said in surprise. His voice was soft, almost unheard if she had not been listening for it, and Belarus wondered if he could control his invisibility. It would make sense, since he seemed so confused she noticed him at all. Though, she supposed, if he could control it, it would surprise him she could see thru it.

"Power of deduction," she corrected.

"Ah," he said, even though it seemed more confused than anything else. His grip on her arm loosened.

_Trusting, _she thought, _or foolish. Or perhaps both. I could get loose and have my knife to his throat before he could blink. _

"You are an idiot," she said bluntly, just to see how he would react. Most nations were more prideful than they lead on, which is why it was surprising he didn't say anything at all, his arm not even tensing. Belarus even had a feeling he shrugged, though she couldn't prove it. She knocked more people off the list of people he could be.

She focused in on his hand, and how it touched so lightly on her arm. His arm moved—subconsciously, she decided—and it tingled as it moved softly across her pale white skin. It was almost like a lover, and mildly she wondered if he treated everyone like this. They probably wouldn't remember, if he did, since he seemed so calm and moderate that they would forget him.

Yes, she decided as his grip tightened slightly, as if he had just realized how lack it had gotten, but still not enough to even begin to hurt her, he was most defiantly invisible.

"You will not tell anyone of this," she said, and it came out controlling and threatening, even though she meant it more of a fact, because even she knew that this man would not tell anyone—nor would they believe him, if he did.

"O-Of course," he said, and she felt him wince at his stutter. Her lips almost twitched before she remembered this man was still a stranger, no matter how he acted.

"I'm—I'm going to let go of your hand now, and I'll back away and go to the conference, so don't look," he said, and then quieter, which anyone without her exquisite hearing would hear, "I hope my brother isn't annoying England too much."

Belarus didn't snort at how weak he sounded, or was even tempted to, as he let go and then hurried away, only rolling her eyes when she heard someone fall to the ground.

Long after the foot falls faded away, she finally moved, relaxing and letting a small smile grace her features.

"Idiot," she murmured, her words lacking all of their poison, "I know it's you."

_Canada. _


End file.
